What's in Store?
by futurestar26
Summary: Pretend Melchior didn't leave. This story is about what would happen when Wendla tells him about the baby. Please read! More chapters coming! Rated T just in case!
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Spring Awakening Fan-Fiction. I love the show. This is just a fictional spin on the pregnancy part.**

**I do not own Spring Awakening *sigh* but we all can dream...**

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Melchior stares at Wendla. Did she really just say that?

"What?" he asks.

"I'm to have a baby," she says again. "That's what the doctor said."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, though I only just found out how this is possible."

Wendla fiddles with the hem of her dress. Melchior still is having trouble processing this. How could that have happened? Well, he knows how. He's just still in shock.

"Melchi?" Wendla whispers.

"What?" he answers. His emotions are still a jumbled mess inside. Besides the terrible shock, confusion, and dread, he finds himself thinking he should be angry. But he just can't be. Not at Wendla.

"I'm scared." And with that, she bursts into tears. Melchior reaches out to her. At first she resists, brushing the tears away herself. But they continue to flow. This time, she rushes right into his arms. He holds her there, whispering softly in her ear until she settles down.

"We will figure out something," Melchior says. "Everything will be fine."

"How can it be?" she asks, her eyes still wet and red. "Mother knows. She's furious. She knows the baby is your's. I'm sure she's gone to your parents now. Nothing will ever be the same. And she...She said that..." Her tears flow again.

Melchior rubs her back and asks, "What did she say?"

"She says they can take it out. Doctors can remove the baby. That's what she wants to have them do. Oh Melchi! How could I do that to my child?"

"You don't have to, Wendla," he whispers. "I'll think of something."

But he has no idea what.


	2. Chapter 2

The idea of confronting Wendla's mother scares him, but Melchior knows it is the only way. He and Wendla walk hand in hand from the graveyard to her family's home. They stop outside the front door, Wendla not moving another inch.

"I can't," she says, eyes watering again. "I can't bare to hear what she will say to you."

"It's alright, Wendla," he said, putting an arm around her. "We'll be fine. Just follow my lead. Everything will be okay."

With that, they enter the house. It's dark mostly, except for some of the moonlight that escapes through the curtains. Wendla calls out to her mother a few time. There are no answers. Melchior finds himself breathing a sigh of relief.

"We must wait then," Wendla decides, sitting down at the dining table. Melchior couldn't leave her there alone, even if he wanted to. So he sits there too, and they wait together.

An hour of silence goes by until they hear keys in the lock of the back door. They stand and wait. Sure enough, it is Wendla's mother. She is scared at first, but her face quickly twists back into the look of anger Wendla had seen all day.

"What business do you two have in my house after you've disgraced us so?" she shouts.

Wendla is shaking, her chin quivers. "Mother, please," she whispers. "We need to talk."

"Talk? Of what? Of your sins? Of that...that...that bastard child of yours!"

"Please, ma'am," Melchior says, raising his voice just a little. Even though he only just found out about the baby, he already is starting to feel great love for the thing. "Let us explain ourselves."

The woman agrees, but is not happy. She remains standing, but moves quite far away from them. Melchior honestly doesn't mind. "Say what you must," she says, "but know that I have already spoken to your parents, boy. There is no hope for redemption.

"Mother, Melchior and I are sorry, so very sorry," Wendla says, a few tears escaping down her cheeks.

"Yes," Melchior agrees. "If we could take back our wrong doings, then we would."

"But you can't make us give up the baby. It is wrong. It is against the Holy Scriptures!"

"Do not preach to me about Scriptures," her mother screams. "You've disgraced the good Lord; you are no longer a worthy follower of Christ."

"But Wendla is right," Melchior says, grabbing the girl's hand. Her mother looks on in disgust. "Just as much as conception out of wedlock is a sin, so is the killing of the unborn child."

"I'm sorry, Mother, for everything," Wendla pleads. "I never meant to shame you so. But please, do not make us do such a thing." She is sobbing now, leaning on Melchior for support. He gently rubs her back, telling her to settle down or that everything will be fine. Something about seeing this seems to soften her mother. Never once did Wendla's mother ever think that the two children could possibly love each other.

"Are you saying you want to keep it?" the woman asked slowly. "You want the responsibilites of being a parent?"

Melchior stood up taller. "We have made our mistakes, but we are ready to take responsibilty."

The woman thinks this over. Watching her daughter sob so loudly really does break her heart. It is her daughter after all. And Melchior does love her, that the woman can see clearly. She sighs loudly, then turns to her stove. "I'll fix you two dinner," she says. "After you have a good night's rest, we will meet once more with Melchior's parents and sort this whole thing out."


	3. Chapter 3

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I'm sorry for the lack of updates, I got carried away with my Next to Normal fan fictions. I just want to say that I really don't know where I'm going with this but I appreciate the support from you guys!

**DISCLAIMER: Um...I dont own Spring Awakening because if I did, Melchior would me mine and no one else's...so ya...**

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They ate in silence. Melchior was forced to sleep in the kitchen while Wendla and her mother went upstairs. He didn't get much rest though. Thinking about what his own parents would say really frightened him. He was worried about Wendla, and even about the baby. What would he be like? Or what would she be like?

Morning came far too quickly, and Wendla was being practically dragged down the stairs in a clean dress. Her mother didn't speak. She only opened the door and walked ahead of the children to Melchior's house. This time it was Melchior's turn to hesitate on the steps. What would his father say? He couldn't bare to see the disappointment in his mother's eyes.

"Go in, boy," Wendla's mother said, giving him a forcefull shove towards the door. He straightened up and realized there was no turning back now. Might as well take some responsibility and action.

His parents were waiting in their parlor room. He hadn't spoken to his family in days, so his mother ran up and gave him a tight hug. She must have realized why they were meeting because she pulled away stiffly and hurried back to the seat next to her husband.

"The children seem to have their own ideas," Fraulien Bergmann said. "We shall just let them talk."

Wendla swallowed hard, and Melchior could see tears forming again. He did not remember her being so quick to cry. Could it be something that came with pregnancy?

"We have no idea what you've decided for Melchior--" she starts shakily.

"He is to be sent away at once," his father shouts loudly. "Never once has a Gabor man done such a thing to ruin his family's name. You two are disgraces." Fanny hushes her husband and looks to Melchior.

"I'm sorry, Father," he says softly at first. But then, he realizes he must be truthful. He should tell them what he wants. It would make everything so much easier. "Wendla and I are sorry. But I personally have no regrets." Both adult women gasp. "My love for Wendla is infinite. I did not realize such a thing until just recently. But now I know it is true. If there is to be a child now then so be it. We will handle it ourselves. No one in this town has the decencey to treat us like adults. If you want us to have adult morals and thoughts, then why don't you let us try our hand at adulthood? Let us be parents, let us be responsible. Isn't that what you want?"

Wendla looks braver now, filled with confidence from Melchior's words. "And I would never kill my baby," she adds. "It is such a wrong thing. I won't let anyone with those ideas even close to my unborn child."

The adults took a moment to digest this. The women had softened, Melchior could tell. But his father was still as hard as a rock. He would be the hard one.

"No," his father said. "No, no, no! You will not be parents, you will not be treated like adults until you act like them."

"How can we," Wendla asked, voice raised, "if you will not treat us that way?"

"And you will indeed have that child removed!"

"No!" She ran into Melchior's arms, but his father wrenched them apart.

"You two shall never touch again," he said. And with that he dismissed Wendla and her mother and sent Melchior to his room. Wendla had no idea if she would be seeing Melchior ever again, or what would happen to their child.

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**So what do you think? Please review....I'm really excited to continue!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok here's the next part! Thanks for reviewing! **

**And I don't own anything Spring Awakening...well, besides a tee shirt...**

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Wendla cried for two days straight. Her mother was very surprised at this behavior. She had no idea that Wendla had cared for the boy so much. The woman took it upon herself to make things right. One night, after Wendla was in bed, she headed for the Gabor house.

Meanwhile, Melchior himself was set on doing something to make a change. His father was treating him so harshly, he couldn't stand it. He also hated the way he spoke of Wendla. There was a knock at the door downstairs. While his parents went to answer it, he decided now was the time. He climbed out his window to see Wendla.

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"Fraulien," Fanny greeted with a smile. "Do come in." She and her husband led Wendla's mother into the same room where they had met days earlier. They all took a seat. "What is going on, hmm?"

"Well," the Fraulien said, "it's my Wendla."

"Has she taken care of that...that thing inside her?" the boy's father asked.

"No, she won't come out of her room or let me inside, so I haven't been able to take her."

"Well, you should be more forceful. Before long, she will show and it will not be a secret anymore."

"Yes, yes, I know. I've been thinking about it all very much. On a different note, how is Melchior?"

"How should we know?" Fanny said, giving her shoulders a little shrug. "He won't speak to us, he won't eat or even come downstairs, much like your girl."

"Perhaps we should let the two see each other," Fraulien Bergmann suggested slowly. "Perhaps it would lift them both out of their sour spirits."

"Absolutely not!" the man screamed, and the adults spiraled into an argument.

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Wendla sat on her bed, trying to quiet her tears when there was a knock at her window. She looked to see Melchior balancing on the sill. She smiled, wiped her eyes, and let him inside.

"Hello," Melchior said stupidly, pulling her into a hug.

She embraced him so tightly, all the while whispering to him, "My mother isn't home. We don't have to hide. You feel under-fed. Let me cook you something."

He pulled back and looked at her. She looked the same way, which couldn't be good with a child on the way. "I haven't the time. My parents just went to answer the door. For all I know, they could be on their way up to my room as we speak. But I had to see you; I had to talk to you."

"Well, here I am. What is it?"

"Before long, we won't be able to keep up our silent treatments. This is a loosing battle if we don't take action."

"Yes, of course. But how?" Wendla asked.

"Well, I've been thinking, and I have a few ideas," he said. "We could ask our parents if we could get married. If we were, I'm sure that would make something about the child legal or moral or something."

"I would like that." Wendla smiled, thinking of what dress she would wear.

"If they won't let us, though, we should just run away."

"To where?" Wendla. "This is our home. I don't think I could ever leave."

"I have a few places in mind, including America. Wendla, don't you see? This could be our only option." He placed a hand gently on her stomach. "I want to make a good life for our child."

Wendla thought for a moment, looking into Melchior's clear and hopeful eyes. "Alright. But we must find out about the marriage first. That is my first choice."

"Of course. We could go now to my parents."

"Yes, now."

Since her mother was indeed gone, she led Melchior down the stairs and out the front door.

* * *

The screaming continued in the Gabor home.

"Perhaps we should ask the children what they want!" Fanny Gabor shouted. The other two had been arguing about what they wanted, but Fanny understood that the children would want a say in their own future.

"What?" the man asked, sitting down slowly.

"I know Melchior cares for Wendla. Who knows? Maybe he has some ideas about what he wants to do. Perhaps Wendla knows what she wants for her child. There are the options of adoption or orphanges or churches to think about as well."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Fraulien Bergmann agreed.

Only Melchior's father was doubtful. "But look at the mistakes they've already made," he said. "How can we trust them to do what is right now?"

"We just have to," Fanny concluded.

The conversation was about to continue, but the adults noticed two figures coming in from outside. It took them a moment to step into the light and be recognized, but the figures were Melchior and Wendla.

"What are you two doing?" Wendla's mother asked.

"We have some suggestions to make about our future," Melchior said.

"See?" Fanny pointed out. She went over to her son, and led the two children to a couch. "We've agreed to listen to you and hopefully come up with a good solution. What do you have in mind?"

"Marriage," Wendla said, wasting no time with introductions.

"What?"

"Wendla and I think that we should get married," Melchior said slowly, looking at all the adults. "We think it is a good plan. That way the child can be welcomed into a legitimate family. And we're not just doing this because of the baby. We feel that it would have been done anyway, in the future sometime."

"You love her enough to marry her?" his father asked him.

"Yes."

"I think it's an option," Wendla's mother said slowly.

"Does this mean you plan on keeping the child?" Fanny asked. "You don't have to, you know. If you don't want the surgery, you could always bring the babe once it's born to a convent or foster home."

"Oh no," Wendla said. "This is my child. I want to keep him or her, and I want to be there for my baby and be a loving mother."

The adults all looked at each other, desperate for another solution, but their minds were blank. Yes it would be embarrassing to the families, what with a child and everything, but the children seemed dead set on being together. There were no other options.

Melchior's father stood. "Alright," he said. "You may be married."

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**What do you think? Please review. I'm going to continue I think...I want to bring Ilse into the story too, so thanks for liking the story and hang tight for chapter 5!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey all! I'm really sorry about keeping you waiting so long! I was really really busy, and was sick for a bit. But now I'm back and am really excited for this next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Spring Awakening. This is just a story.**

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Wendla sat in a open field, surrounded by tall wild flowers blowing in the wind. She rubbed her round belly, her baby to arrive any day. She thought about all of the things that happened since the night she and Melchior had become engaged. His father said that as punishment for their wrong-doings, they were to wait until after the child's birth to married. That way they could face the consequences.

She didn't bother to tell any of her friends about the marriage. She honestly didn't know how to. Everything had been fine, until she started showing that is. She was forced to wear dresses given to her by her mother and Melchior's mother from the days when they too were in her position. Well, the "having the baby" part, not the part where she was unmarried and so young.

Once you could plainly see she was to have a child, people started treating her differently. Old friends like Martha and Anna stopped talking to her. She confronted Thea one day, who answered simply that her parents did not want her to be around someone so disgraceful. Melchior was the only one who talked to her or walked with her. Because of it, people knew who the child's father was. And soon Melchior was being shunned as well. He was strong enough to get through it, but not Wendla. Soon after, she stopped going to school.

So during the days when her mother was busy and Melchior had his lessons, she sat alone on the edge of town, humming a tune or reading a book. Most of the time, she was bored out of her mind. But she just sat there and smiled, waiting for Melchior to meet her there for lunch.

"Wendla?" a voice said.

She looked behind her. It was Ilse. She hadn't been around at all lately, always off frolicking with various artist groups. But there she stood, in a raggedy old dress, hair loose in the wind.

"Wendla Bergmann," Isle said with a chuckle. She hurried over and sat beside her. "What has you out here all alone instead of in the school house?" Wendla simply put a hand on her stomach. Isle had somehow not even noticed the pregnant belly. "Oh, I see." She smiled. "Who's is it then?"

"Melchior Gabor," Wendla answered looking off into the distance. Recently, she had learned to ignore what people were saying about her. She braced herself for whatever Isle might say.

"I had a feeling. Can I touch it?"

"Excuse me?"

"The baby. Your stomach, may I feel for some kicks?"

"Oh." No one ever asked that besides Melchior or her mother. She gave Ilse an uneasy look, but then smiled. Just by looking at her, she was most definitely the same wild Ilse. She was different from the rest of them. "You may. Although, he's quite calm as of now. He always is when I come to this spot. It must relax him the way it does me."

"Him?" Ilse asked as she put her hand aside Wendla's on the stomach. "You know for sure it's a boy?"

"Well, no, but I'm hoping for one. I did want a girl, but Melchi so longs for a boy. He hasn't said that out loud of course, but I know he does. So I want a boy too."

"Have you picked out a name? For boy or girl?"

"No," Wendla admitted. "We've been thinking, but it's so hard. Melchior has said something about naming a boy Moritz."

"That would be quite nice," Isle said with a smile, giving one last affectionate rub to the baby. He was calm, as Wendla had predicted. She would love to have another Moritz, though he could never be replaced of course. She just missed him terribly. Not everyone was worried about keeping his memory alive the way she and Melchior hoped to.

"For a girl, well, I don't know. Heidi perhaps, or something like Kirsten or Klara. I really don't know."

"Another Ilse perhaps?"

"Perhaps," Wendla laughed. "Where have you been, by the way? If you don't mind me asking..."

"These past weeks I've been living on the road with a band of so-called gypsies and thieves," she explained. "They wear the most interesting clothing and have the most liberal ways of life. But of course, what do we really know of being liberal, what with us growing up in a town like this? I honestly don't mean to babble, but I had quite a time! We'd spend our nights dancing and our days sleeping or traveling. And they never question you. To them, I was just another one of their own. They would dress me up and teach me their songs and dances. Some of them I couldn't even understand, they spoke foreign languages. They came from all over, genuinely! I imagine I would have continued to live with them, I felt so at home. But they had plans to leave the country, and that I just could not do. So I turned back for home. You're the first person I've come across since."

"Sounds like quite an adventure," Wendla said, trying to imagine what it must have been like.

"Yes, I suppose it was. But to me, it was just some good fun."

"Ilse?" a voice shouted. They both looked towards the sound. It was only Melchior. It must have been lunchtime. He came running towards them. "Is that you?"

"It is me, Melchior," she answered, laughing. "Congratulations."

"What?"

"You're to have a child, don't you know?" she teased. "Well, I must be going. I imagine there might be at least one person waiting for me in town. Not that I'll be going home. I'll pay a visit to the school house I suppose. Or maybe just have a talk with the village girls. I'll leave you two alone though. I hope everything turns out well. I don't know how long I'll be staying in town, so in case I leave before seeing you again, I hope you come up with the perfect name for your baby." And with that, she skipped down the hill and out of sight.

"Was that really Ilse?" Melchior asked, sitting next to Wendla in the grass.

"Yes, she's been off living with gypsies she said," Wendla explained. "She was quite happy for us when she heard the news. That alone should confirm it's Ilse."

"You're right. I've brought lunch." He reached into his bag and pulled out two apples and sandwiches for them to eat. Wendla was awfully hungry and knew it would not be enough to settle her stomach, but she kept quiet and smiled. They kept the conversation light as they ate.

"Melchi, how soon after the baby comes will we get married?" Wendla asked, finally getting the burning question out of her system.

"As soon as you are well enough I assume," he answered.

"Don't you almost wish they we could have been married the night we had permission? Wouldn't that be nice?"

"I believe you're only saying that because you wish your friends were still speaking to you."

"No," Wendla protested, even though it was true. "It just would have made this easier, that's all."

"Yes, well, children our age don't marry. The town would have known something was up if we were marrying and weren't at least a few years older. And once you started to show, they would know the truth. That we rushed to marry because of the child."

"But we were in love! Whether we married now or then, it would have been for love."

"But people don't think that way, Wendla," Melchior said, getting a little annoyed. It seemed that these days this was the near constant conversation with Wendla. "They would do the math once the baby was born and know we had done something out of wedlock. They would have still treated us this way, just not right away like now."

"Who will be the child's godparents?"

"You want to have it baptized?"

"Well, yes. We were as children. Shouldn't our child be? It is our faith."

Melchior didn't want to upset her. Even though he hoped he could keep his child out of the faith that confused him so, he would smile and agree for Wendla's sake. "Of course. Perhaps Ilse now that she's back."

Wendla laughed. "But what kind of example would that set for the child?" she asked between laughs.

_Yes, _Melchior thought, _but what kind of example are we?_

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**I hope you liked this chapter! And again sorry for the delay! I'm pretty sure she'll have her baby in the next chapter. I can promise this time the next chapter will come much faster!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay again! I wasn't going to update tonight (well I guess now this morning lol), but I just have to!**

**I just want to say, thanks for all the support with this story :) Keep those reviews coming!**

**And I don't own anything Spring Awakening**

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Wendla and Melchior sat in his hayloft. It was raining so hard outside that their plans to meet Ilse out in the fields had to be cancelled. Instead, Wendla was helping Melchior with his Latin.

"_Bona fides," _Wendla read from his school book.

"Good intention," Melchior answered easily.

"How about _Deo volente_?"

"God willing. These are so easy."

"Still, you must know them for school," Wendla reminded him, shifting her position to be more comfortable. She was feeling a little pain in her belly, but figured it was just from sitting in an odd position.

"Are you alright?" Melchior asked her.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "Now, let's continue. _In caelo quies_?"

"There is rest in heaven. You know, you'd make a good school teacher."

"Perhaps I will be one, when I'm older. Now, let's finish. You've only got a few more to translate. Perhaps by then the rain will have stopped."

"Alright," Melchior agreed. "What's next?"

"_Ita est_," Wendla read.

"It is. That's the easiest one!"

"I'm just reading them as they are on the page! Ready for the next one?" Melchior nodded. "_Ora et labora._"

"Pray and work. Next!"

Wendla was about to read off the next phrase when she felt a very sharp tightness in her stomach, followed by intense pain. "Ow!" she exclaimed.

"That's not Latin," Melchior laughed.

"No, Melchi," Wendla said, reaching for him. "Really! It hurts, my stomach. I think...I think the baby's coming!"

"Now! What? How?"

"How am I supposed to know? Get my mother!"

"Mine is closer. I'll have my father send for yours," Melchior said as he scrambled down the ladder and out the door. He ran into his house, not caring that he was getting soaked by the rain. His mother was busy cooking dinner.

"Mother!" he shouted.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Wendla's having her baby. Come quickly!"

"Now? Where?"

"The hayloft. She wants her mother." He looked over his shoulder. "Please hurry!"

"Don't fret now," she told her son. "You go to her now. Your father is out, so I must run into town to fetch the physician. I'll get her mother as well." His mother grabbed her coat and hurried out the door. Melchior didn't waste a moment and ran back to the hayloft. Wendla was lying there, screaming in pain.

"Wendla," he said, going to her and taking her hands, "I'm here, love, it's okay. Ssh, ssh." Her face was now wet with sweat. He brushed the hair that was stuck to her forehead out of the way. "My mother is getting your mother and the doctor. But I'm here for you. Where does it hurt?"

"My stomach," she cried. "It's the baby. It's coming and he clearly does not want to be inside me much longer." She squeezed Melchior's hands tightly as a fresh wave of pain washed over her.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"My mother," she screamed, "I need her!"

"She is coming," Melchior assured her. "Just try and be strong."

Within a few minutes, the doctor had arrived with Wendla and Melchior's mother. They all crouched around Wendla.

The doctor looked at her for a moment. "How long have you felt the pain?" he asked.

"I don't know. It hurts!" Wendla screamed.

"Wendla, please," her mother said, "answer the man."

"Ten minutes!"

"Very good," the doctor said. "How frequently do feel the worst pain?"

"All the time!"

"The baby is ready. Open your legs, child."

"What?" Melchior shouted. "Why in God's name would she do that?"

"Melchior, hush," his mother said. "The doctor knows what he's doing. You do understand where the child comes out of. Wendla must let the doctor have a look."

"But, Mother, I don't think-"

"We don't have time for this," Wendla's mother interrupted. "Listen to what your told, both of you." She gripped Wendla's legs and opened them for the doctor, fixing the dress appropriately for the delivery.

"Ah, yes," the doctor said. "I can see the head. It is time. You must push, child."

"What?" Wendla cried, clutching Melchior.

"Once I have a grip on the head, you may begin to push," the doctor said, beginning his process.

Wendla cried out, still in intense pain. "What is he doing?" he shouted. "Owww!"

Melchior knocked the doctor out of the way. "Stop it," he yelled. "You're hurting her."

"He is only doing his job," Wendla's mother shouted, clearly frustrated. "The child is coming. We cannot waste time with all of this silly chatter. If we don't deliver the baby soon, we could do serious damage. I worked as a midwife for many years."

"I know that!" Melchior shouted back. "Through my studies of the human body, I know how this delivery should work. Just leave the two of us in peace and I will take care of everything."

"Melchior, honestly," his mother said, "we should let the doctor do his work."

"His work involves touching my wife!"

"Future wife," Wendla's mother muttered.

"I don't care what you all think! Everyone out!" They all the just sat there, the only noise coming from Wendla, who was clearly trying to suppress her cries of pains. "Go!"

"I know my son," his mother said. "We cannot sway him on his ideas and opinions. We can only listen." She was the first to leave them. The doctor followed behind her, just after telling Melchior to be careful. Wendla's mother rolled her eyes before leaving, but at least she did go.

"Alright," Melchior said when they were alone. "We can do this." He assumed the doctors position and took a deep breath. "Wendla, this will hurt, but like the doctor said, I must help guide the baby out. You just be strong and push."

She didn't argue. She wanted that baby out more than anything. Just thinking about the wonderful life her little family would have almost took the pain away completely. Almost.

"I can't push anymore!" she cried after a few minutes.

"It's alright," Melchior said, surprised at himself for being so calm in the situation. "Take a deep breath and try again. The baby is out almost to his shoulders. After that, he'll slide right out. One more push!"

"I can't, Melchi. It hurts!"

"Wendla, please!"

"No!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "I can't," she said, sobbing.

"Calm down, calm down," he said, crawling next to her. "You've come this far. It's almost finished and then you can finally see your beautiful baby." She didn't look convinced. He leaned down and kissed her, something he hadn't done in months. "Wendla, I love you and this child. Do it for me."

She took a breath and said, "Alright."

He took his position at her feet again. "Now push!" he said. And she did. As she cried out in pain, she pushed and pushed and pushed. And finally, Melchior was holding a child in his arms. The baby's cry wasn't scary as he had expected it to be, but beautiful. Wendla was crying too as Melchior handed her the child.

"It's a boy," he said with a smile as a tear managed to slip down his cheek. "That's our son."

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**I thought Melchior deserves to deliver the baby :)**

**I hope you enjoyed, please review!**

**And the next chapter will have to do with raising the kid and of course the wedding so stay tuned!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Finally I'm updating this LOL**

**Obviously, the baby needs to be named Moritz soooo...**

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**(and no, I don't own Spring Awakening)**

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It had been two weeks since the birth of their son. Wendla and Melchior were living on their own in the hayloft. Melchior's father had a new barn built for the animals, and Wendla and Melchior got the old one. It wasn't completely pleasent, but their parents were being kind enough to let them be together.

Raising a child was much harder then they expected. The baby always needed to be nursed or held or changed. And he almost always was crying. That beautiful sound that Melchior so cherished on his son's first day of life was now a noise that made him cringe. He had stopped school to help with the baby, but would go back for the next term. Wendla doubted she would ever go back, not with a child to tend to.

"Melchior," Wendla called, "I'm so tired. Once the baby is fed, can you hold him? I need some rest. Did you know I haven't slept at all these past two days?"

"Now that isn't smart, is it, Wendla?" he asked.

"There's nothing I can do about it. The baby always needs me."

"I offer to help you," Melchior reminds her, "but you always want to do everything yourself."

"He's my baby and I am his mother."

"Yes, and I am his father." He sighed. "Just finish nursing and then I will take him."

Wendla did as she was told and then handed off the child to Melchior so she could rest. He cradled the child in his arms, rocking him back and forth. "My little Moritz," he whispered. He thought about his best friend, what he would have thought of the child. He thought that Moritz would act as Ilse had, coming to visit and bringing along a few presents. He pictured his friend holding the child, playing with him as he got older. Just imagining it could bring tears to his eyes.

_Moritz would be proud of me, _Melchior thought. _He would be happy for me and Wendla. And our child._

* * *

One night, Wendla and Melchior had to meet with their parents to discuss their wedding. Wendla had regained her strength, and as Herr Gabor said, the sooner they got married, the better. The children set the sleeping baby into a cradle in the Gabor's parlor room and sat down for the meeting.

"Let's get right to the point," Herr Gabor said. "I have arranged for a Saturday wedding at the Church. I was not about to make this a public affair, so you are to be married at ten o'clock in the evening. Frau Gabor, Frau Bergman and I will be your witnesses. If you would like to invite a few friends, go ahead, but I doubt anyone will come out to show their support. You will say your vows, then we will all go home and go to sleep."

"So basically you planned a secret wedding?" Melchior asked. "What was the point of all this waiting then?"

"Melchior," Frau Gabor interjected, "we are only doing what is right."

"And what about my dress?" Wendla asked softly.

"I have gotten you some fabric," her mother told her. "You are to make it yourself."

"But Saturday is three days away! How am I to make the perfect wedding dress in such a short time?"

"I don't know. You just...will."

"I hope you are satisfied with this arrangement," Melchior's father said, standing. "Then again, you don't really have a choice." He went upstairs, passing the baby's basket. The child immediately started crying. Wendla hurried to take the baby in her arms.

"I'll be heading home," Frau Bergman said suddenly, rushing out the door. Melchior joined Wendla in comforting the child.

"You two are so natural with him," Frau Gabor said with a warm smile. She had been the most supportive out of all of the adults. "And I do apologize for the wedding arrangements. You know I would have loved planning something lovely, but you must understand our position. We cannot possibly condone your behavior those nine months ago, and by letting you have that extravagent wedding, well, it would seem as though we did approve. Oh, and Wendla, do not hesitate to ask me for help with your dress. I'm confident the dress will be perfect, even without much work. Goodnight." She went up the stairs to join her husband. Wendla looked on longingly. She soon would have a husband to join in bed. Melchior insisted on sleeping on floor until they were married. But soon, that would all change. Soon they would be man and wife. And Wendla could not wait.

* * *

Saturday came much faster than they all anticipated. Melchior and the families had already left for the Church. Now Ilse was helping Wendla dress in her old room. They talked about regular girl things as they laced each other dresses and boots.

"Have you heard that saying about a bride on her wedding day?" Ilse asked, pulling Wendla's hair up onto her head. "They say she needs something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue."

"Well," Wendla said, "my dress is new and my stockings are old. I borrowed the veil from Melchior's mother. But I don't have anything blue."

"Let's see." Ilse looked through Wendla's jewelry box. "Oh, I've found something." She showed the hair pin with a cluster of blue jewels on the end. "We can use this." After fixing Wendla's hair into a neat bun, she fastened it in place with a collection of hair pins, but made sure the blue jewels were sticking out and visible. "You look beautiful," she said.

"Thank you." Wendla looked herself over one last time in the mirror. "Do you suppose we're ready to go?"

"I suppose we are." And they set off, unfortunately having to walk all the way to the Church.

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Melchior stood waiting at the altar in his best clothes, waiting for his Wendla to walk down the aisle. Finally, the lone organ player began the wedding march. From behind the church doors appeared first Ilse, being Wendla's maid of honor. Her dress was a soft green with layers and layers of lace ruffles. She looked lovely, but not as beautiful as Wendla. She fell into step behind Ilse. Her dress had the classic Victorian feel, with the high neck and long train. But it was a dress perfect for Wendla, with ruffles on the bodice and the silk being split over a layer of lace. Her face was covered by a veil, but you could still see her beautiful smile. Any nervousness Melchior had felt before now melted away.

Wendla took her place beside Melchior and the ceremony began. The pastor talked on and on about what a sacred covenant marriage was, most likely just to poke fun at their situation. But finally, it was time for their vows.

"I, Melchior, take you, Wendla, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for rich or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do us part."

"And I, Wendla, take you, Melchior, to my be husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for rich or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do us part."

"Under the eyes of God, I now pronounce you man and wife," the pastor said. "You may kiss your bride."

Melchior smiled as he gently lifted the veil from Wendla's face and they shared the perfect, sweetest kiss. The organ sounded again and they processed out of the church, this time man and wife.

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**What do you think? Please review!**

**I will try and update as soon as I can!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Sorry it really has been forever. I had absolutely no time for fanfiction when school started up again, but now I do! And I plan on staying put! LOL**

**I'm so glad you guys like the story, and I'm really thankful for all the support you guys have given with this one, but unfortunately, I think it's time this story comes to a close. It'll be brief, but I hope you guys like! Oh, and stay tuned for a new Spring Awakening multi-chapter. I've got a few things up my sleeve :)**

**So Enjoy! (and I don't own SA)**

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Melchior and Wendla walked home together hand in hand after their wedding. They were both so happy, so convinced everything would be absolutely perfect.

"That was beautiful, wasn't it Melchi?" Wendla said, staring up at the moon and stars.

"Absolutely," answered Melchior. "But not as beautiful as you."

Wendla blushed and smiled, feeling the best she had ever felt. They returned to their hayloft. Wendla undressed silently, as did Melchior, before getting into their night clothes. Wendla made sure the little baby Moritz was sleeping soundly before joining Melchior in bed.

"This is something different, isn't it?" she giggled.

"Yes," Melchior said, getting comfortable before placing an arm around her. "But it's perfect." And he kissed her. They were lost in love's embrace and found themselves in a place of pure ecstasy. But this time, they did it right.

**_Six Years Later_**

"Moritz!" Wendla called out into the fields. "Your father is home. Come say hello!"

Moritz, a now strapping young lad with a mess of dark hair just like his father, ran into the barn and threw his arms around Melchior. "Welcome home, Father," he said. Moritz noticed his Auntie Ilse helping his mother set the table for supper. "Good evening, Auntie!" he called to her.

"Good evening, Moritz," she answered smiling. "Isn't it nice to have your father back after his visit to America?"

"Oh, yes. We've missed him very much."

"And I've missed you all," Melchior added giving his son another hug before greeting his other children. There was also five year old Adelaide, the most curious child. Melchior thought she looked just like Wendla, but with his smile. She laughed and jumped into her father's arms, a common tradition in their household. Then there was the three year old named Ernest, the quietest of children. He hugged his father mutely, but was grinning from ear to ear-his best feature. And finally their newest addition to the family: a baby of four months that had been born while Melchior was away.

He scooped up the baby girl that Wendla had named Grizelda and planted a kiss upon her cheek. "Hello, my child," he said with a smile. "I'm your father."

Wendla joined Melchior with the baby. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" she said. "She has your eyes."

"She does, doesn't she?"

"Come, let's eat."

"Oh, but I've missed you most of all, my wife," Melchior said with a laugh, pulling Wendla into the warmest of embraces and kissing her on her forehead.

"And I've missed you. But come, we've guests to entertain." And she hurried off to the table.

Melchior laughed as he watched his bustling wife from a distance. How he loved Wendla! Her shining eyes, her radiant smile. To think that he had even ventured away from her to America for almost six whole months. America had been interesting, very different. He thought perhaps it could be a good place for them. But now, back in his home, he decided it just could not be. There, in their little barn house, with friends and family and miles and miles of fields for the children to play in and grow up in and experience it all. It was here in their home their children would make the mistakes even Melchior himself had made...well, hopefully not all of them, he thought to himself. But then he took it back. Because without that night, Melchior truly believed he never would have been this happy.

"Father, come!" Moritz shouted across the room.

"I am, my boy," Melchior replied, and he hurried to share a meal with his wonderful family.

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**Awww lol**

**I hope you all enjoyed the story. I'm sorry it's over :( **

**But like I said, I'll try to get a new one out ASAP!**

**Review please! And thanks for reading!**


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